Thinking quickly, I jet some quick explosive flames from my palms to boost myself out of her line of sight. My hair stood on the back of my neck from hearing the sand needles shoot by behind me. I scramble to catch myself and keep it moving as I run my way around the back of the building and try to think of a way to get back at that bitch for sinking those innocent people on top of slashing my right cheek. That’s my good side! Her magis continued to infiltrate the earth behind my feet. Maybe if I get some elevation I can shake this chick. Luckily something slowed her down and I could slip into the back of the building after slinging some heat into a window for a quick entry. I feel the lady's presence less and less while I climb each flight. I took a second to take cover by a window on the third floor where I found some other people hiding. I looked down through a window to see what she was up to, while I was relieved to see that she wasn't hounding me anymore, but only for a couple of seconds.

My chest got tight as I saw a pair magian marshalls on patrol start tagging that slag with bolt after bolt of fire and ice into her body, only to cause black spots to show up where she was getting blasted. She wasn't taking damage, that broad made some hybrid ward armor out of the sand she's been using! Without missing a beat, she conjured a complex of pillars and spikes all around the two of them. The one that was shooting fire bolts looks like he got stuck pretty bad, the ice user look took a page out of her book and conjured ice in the spots they were almost hit. The quick thinking let them help their partner outta get away.

I started to rack my brain to think of a way to put her out of commission but nothing was coming to mind. With her being encased in that sand armor, even if I make a direct hit it's likely she won't feel a damn thing! I can't just sit here and think about how I won't be able to do anything about this shit either, I promised with Tyson that I was gonna do everything I can to stop the fucks from mucking up our town. But, that didn't mean I had to try and do all of this on my own. It's was a risky, but just now I've got an idea brewing in my noggin and I'm starting to think it's worth a shot!

“Psst!” I get the attention of the other people taking shelter. “Hey you guys got your switches on you?”

* * *

Once I got sick of hiding I started to sneak my way back out to the main road. I would say about ten or so minutes went by and all the ground shaking had chilled out. The dame tapped her toe and looked in the direction her escort had ran off in, but after a few minutes she started to pout.

“Have your fun my brutish companion! I’m going to get what we came for and take my leave.”

Shit! I didn’t wanna lose my chance so I burst out in the street. “I don’t think so hot stuff! You owe me a dance after that scare you gave me.” The look of disgust on her face was enough to make me consider turning back. But I got what I wanted, the sand pile that had risen beneath her had changed its course. For now, she’d rather give me some attention than grab whatever she’s after.

She continued with the cold glare and conjured up some sand discs, “I dread taking trips to places like this. ‘Academia’, an institution made by commoners to mislead lowborn miscreants like yourself into thinking you could ever rise to even the most granular level of significance. It’s such a farce.” With a wave of her hand, the discs formed jagged edges and started spinning and grinding through the street. “Be grateful that a lady of the house Grannus, is taking time out of her duties to make you understand your place in the world.”

“Yeah cool babe, so I take it you’re ready?” I’m getting sick of her droning on and shit.

With a grunt, she sends both discs grinding along towards me, drawing lines in the street along the way. I run straight towards her. I just got the signal I was waiting for and I want to get this over with before I lose my nerve. Right now, though, Tobias Angelo Kurt is feeling himself! I don’t even try to dodge. I blast both discs into dust with a quick blast from each hand just before they converge on me. I sprint while using both hands to draw a sigil, direct emission isn’t going to work, so the plan is to make a blanket. I conjure a wall of flame, making a halo about 15 feet above her.

“Flame constructs, the most prehistoric of magian art styles.” She scoffs, “Disappear!”

At that moment, I reach the perfect range, townies start jumping out from their hiding places in and around the surrounding buildings and casting any fire spell they know in her direction. This interrupts whatever she was planning to cast on me, “Tsk! Pedestrian.” She plasters some more sand on her body, bulking her armor up as the heat approaches.

At that moment, I thank my lucky stars this girl was so easy to read! I yoink my flaming halo down to her level and contract it like a molten handcuff, timing it just right to when the blasts from the peanut gallery make contact. I’m not confident I have the force to break through her armor, but that doesn’t mean the match-up ain’t in my favor! I expand the halo to coat her bod almost perfectly and as each blast makes contact I contain it and absorb the heat generated from each and every hit.

“How’s this for prehistoric?! I made a kiln for the whole community! Get cooked you fuckin’ diva!” With my surge of confidence my shaping reached an almost subconscious level, which was a bonus because now I get to take in the view as my flame coat changes from red, to green, to blue! That’s a new record!

I feel her struggling up until the flames went blue, she managed to jerk one arm towards me causing a sand spike to shoot up at me. I barely sensed the surge of magis beneath so she got me good on my side. The pain was enough to make me lose concentration, but the job was done. I hear some chatter amongst the people that came out of hiding as I try to catch my breath and keep my wits about me through the pain.

What a relief, the house lady or whatever, and the ten feet or so of ground around her were turned into a glass statue. I let myself lie down now that the fight’s over, and I didn’t even have deck her or nothin’!

People start to cheer from all around and run to me. Some guys I know from school help get me to my feet. “Yo, Kurt that was amazing! Can you teach me how to shape fire like that?” one asks. Another made comments on how I must have “Balls of steel.” I only enjoyed the pats on the back for a few moments. The euphoria left me when I remembered that things here weren’t over by a longshot. I get the boys off me for and look toward the building the clubber busted up. “I gotta find Thompson!”

* * *

The moment that guy sent back that wave of force I knew what time it was. I had already backed off and took cover by the stairwell door and started to wait for signs of retaliation. Then the whole building shakes a matter of seconds later. I peer out from the doorway and see the entire section of the roof I was hiding out by earlier is completely smashed in. I bang my head on the concrete wall cursing my luck, why do I always, always, have to face up with the damn bruisers?! I hear some heavy movements, likely the freak pulling his bell-bat out of the rubble.

“You’re different.” A voice loaded with bass eased into my mind. It felt like sending, but you had to know who you were sending to, at least by name. No, this is like some form of telepathy? That’s nuts though, they don’t teach that kind of thing, at least I’ve never seen any reading material on the matter. “I know you’re in here.” It continued, ugh this feels so gross. “You can come out and have a few words with me, or I can break my way to you and squeeze out what I want to know.” The air of certainty is alarming, maybe I’ll have something to gain out of this if I play along. It’s not like long range worked for me anyway.

I make my way down the next floor, weapons still drawn. Gray Hood had his hood down to show his face, his eyes were filled with light. What I saw of his body was chiseled enough to give Travers a run for his money. “Well, you seem pretty chill for a terrorist. Maybe we can have little trade? I’ll start, the name’s Wyatt. Thompson, if you’re feeling bashful about a first basis.”

He smirked, keeping his club relaxed over his shoulder. “Orin Blackwood. Call me whatever you like. I’d like to know of your practice, Cracker here, has never seen such stimulation.” He nods towards his club, with bells still ringing. I take a look with magis augmented vision, my concerns are confirmed. Whatever alloy that stick is made of, absorbs and amplifies whatever affinity it meets. When he took those swings at everyone else he was weakening their attacks and blowing them back just enough to get them to back off. If he was in a mindset to get wild though, we’d probably have a lot more casualties on our hands.

“I guess my attacks really rung your bell, those things get more obnoxious the higher the potency of the stimuli, right?”

He smiles and points at me, “That deduction was ten out of ten. I expect no lest of a serf for the Tinworths.”

“Thompson in name only I’m afraid, my folks sorta passed on before they told me our family’s terms and conditions. When I came of age I never swore fealty. I’m a free agent to this day.” I explain after a wag of the finger.

He frowns for a bit before a grin spreads across if face, “That’s grand, since you’re not under contract, I would like to offer you a deal. Your services as a craftsman and servant, for your life, and whatever materials to need to work on any project you’d like.”

“Hard pass, I’ve got a counter offer though, you and your mistress tell me what your business is here. After that, I’ll think about letting you piss off back to wherever you came from without getting perforated for burying people alive. I don’t take orders, or commissions.” My palms start to sweat, I should’ve let this blowhard find me the hard way, then I could’ve got the jump on him.

“You know, it was worth a shot. I think you should’ve went for that. In fact, even if you failed you would’ve died so quickly that you wouldn’t feel a thing. It that respect it’s a no-lose situation.” He taps his forehead playfully. Fuck, so he is a telepath.

“I can feel intentions, like that sudden rise in hostility.”

“Well I guess we can stop wasting each other’s time, since you can probably feel that I’m done talking to you. I’ve got people waiting on me so you’ll have to excuse me.” I point both of my shooters his way, “Last chance to fess up big guy.”

He swings his hammer as soon as I finish my last words. I side step the first swing while frantically trying to run my magis through the runework just right. I combine my tools together and switch to the force sabre, using it to parry the next blow aimed at my side. It’s no use though, my world is sent spinning as the sheer force of his club breaks my sword and sends me tumbling into the wall. Well this has been anti-climactic, that one hit completely shattered my weapon, along with my left arm. The shock is keeping me from subcumming to pain, but my breathing started to get heavy. I’m panicking. I can already feel my good hand locking up as the anxiety starts to set it. I’d kill for a smoke right now…

“See that? That’s why your family was always delegated to crafts. Your bodies are so feeble that you can’t handle the stress true greatness puts on your body. So, you found your value in creating creature comforts for the houses of real status. Even the Tinworths aren’t remarkable when all things are considered. Out of kindness I offered you a chance for survival, to return to your true purpose. Service. Now I must witness another meager bloodline dry out. Tragic.”

I thought about Tyson, the one that was my big brother. He would’ve knocked this guy’s block off, but he’d also shout something like, “Wyatt! You’re gonna let yourself get beat up by another meathead?! Why don’t you use that big stupid brain of yours and think your way out?! You have everything you need, you always do. Just like I showed you!”

I remember the time I used my first tool, the one I still keep on my work desk. I imaged myself throwing rocks a that knot in the tree. The tool would fire bolts corresponding to the rock throws I envisioned. If I could use that inanimate object to impose my will, then maybe…

I don’t know where I was finding the will power to do it, but I rose to my feet. I just gotta hang on a little longer and make sure I don’t black out. I stare the bastard down.

He snickers as he starts to walk his way toward me. “I must admit, despite the stories I heard about your family, you are quite the brazen warrior. It might not be too late. You’ll lose that arm, as a reminder of what will happen if you try to defy you betters ever gain. But you can still have a promising career as my personal weapon smith.”

My knees buckle, and I hack up some blood. Both bad signs, but if it was the last thing I did, I was gonna make this uppity asshole pay for all the shit he said about my parents. I drop an orb at my feet after unclipping it from my belt. This is going to be a hell of a field test, but I’m thankful I placed it on the right side. I kick it at him before making a desperate lunge.

“Final offer!” I shout with everything I've got, belching blood as I huff to get in range.

The cocky bastard lets go of his club and advances to man handle me or something. This is it! Imagine my inner self, beating on the floor between us with everything he’s got. The orb screeches and send force straight through the floor, making us both lose our footing. I clutch his chest with my right arm as we begin to free-fall. “I put you in the dirt!” I visualize my inner self once again, this time feeling the entirety of my magis reserves plunge through the palm of my hand. “Then you get to beg my family for forgiveness on your way to the depths!”

A sharp beam of force shot straight through his back, the light in his eyes went out almost immediately. We crash into the second floor, making dust plume throughout the space. After rolling off the cadaver of the hulking elitist, I struggle to get back to my feet. Once I’m at my knees I look down at him one last time, hack up a hemo-loogie and hock it onto his forehead. “Fuckin’ blue bloods, man.”